Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus
by GuyWithAHelmet
Summary: Hogwarts says to never tickle a sleeping dragon, but in the opinion of Charles "Charlie" Weasley, to do so would be his lifelong dream. Welcome to Romania and everything you've never read about.
1. An Exciting Start

_Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus_

-Motto of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Some would say that potentially deadly experiences are exhilarating things, refreshing youth and getting your heart pumping. They say that life isn't life without danger. They say that living life on the edge is the only true way to make living worthwhile.

Those people, in the opinion of Charles "Charlie" Weasley, were bloody morons.

"DUCK, WEASLEY!" screamed Katherine as the Irish Sawscale whipped its massive, scaly snout in Charlie's direction and roared, the steam spewing from its gullet heralding the birth of a gigantic blast of fire-

-that was directed at Charlie.

"I KNOW!" howled Charlie as he dove behind the cover of a fallen tree, hurriedly covering his head with his fire-resistant cloak. It was _technically _fireproof, but Charlie- and the rest of his team- knew better. Nothing's really fireproof against dragon fire, as the scorched and blazing grass of the clearing they were in testified to. The grass had previously been covered with frost, but the Sawscale had evidently decided that if she was going to put up a fight, she was going to set _everything _on fire, and screw anything else in the vicinity.

The Irish Sawscale, a rogue female dragon that had been picking off tourists, hikers, pets, and livestock for the past few weeks, emitted a bellowing gasp that always preceded an incoming fireball, and Charlie heard the billowing roar of superheated air as the white-hot blast of fire splashed against the tree trunk. The heat became unbearable, and Charlie was pretty darn sure that the only thing keeping him from being incinerated was his dragon-hide cloak. Of course, that could also be the reason the dragon was specifically targeting him. Dammit. _Knew that this bloody cloak would get me killed when I got here-_

"FIRE! _STUPEFY!" _barked Kate, her dark hair flying wildly about her face as she slashed her wand at the raging Sawscale. The rest of the team joined in, and Charlie popped up from behind the charred and incinerated log to join in with a frenzied cry of "_STUPEFY!" _as bolts of red light converged on the massive, scaly beast. The stunning spells exploded into scarlet sparks on the dragon's scaly hide, and it let out a screeching roar, its wings flailing as it prepared to take flight and escape these new, annoyingly persistent predators.

"Don't let it take off!" yelled Harris, who resembled a shaved gorilla and was only marginally more intelligent. "YOU DON'T SAY, HARRIS!" screamed Adam, who was tall and willowy and had a rather pragmatically ingenious approach to all things material. "_INCARCEROUS!" _the team shouted, more or less in unison. Dark strands of rope shot from the ends of their wands and whipped around the dragon's wings and legs, entangling it as the Sawscale awkwardly tried to wrest its way free of the enchanted rope. The dragon let out a hissing screech as it spewed fire into the air, some of the rope starting to char and snap.

The four dragon handlers glanced at each other, and unspoken agreement passed in between them- except for Charlie, who had just gotten onto the team. As such, Kate glanced over and shouted, "Attack plan Kamikaze!" to Charlie, who had been selected for this specific job because he was excellent at doing things on instinct without a lot of thought in it.

Charlie, steeling his nerves, vaulted over the log he'd been sheltered behind and sprinted as fast as he could to the beleaguered dragon. Aiming his wand at the Sawscales eyes, he howled, "_OBSCURA!" _at the top of his lungs. A cloud of black mist spewed out of his wand, and it flowed over the dragon's head, clinging particularly to the eyes. Charlie had time to think, _gee, that actually worked _right before the blinded dragon let out a shrieking roar that practically ruptured his eardrums due to the fact that he was no more than ten feet away.

"Good work!" called Adam, a manic grin on his face as he aimed his wand, though his voice sounded a bit distorted thanks to the agony in Charlie's ears. "_Incarcerous!" _The team's plan to finish off dragon's was to play a dangerous game of whack-a-mole until the dragon was dazed/distracted enough to allow someone to rush in and blind it (_Obscura _was an annoyingly short ranged spell), upon which half of the team would continually tie the dragon down whilst the others repeatedly stunned it until it gave up. The dragon, blinded and constantly being tied down and stunned, would eventually wear down and collapse, and its fire would be much less effective when it was blinded.

So far, the plan had been going right. If it hadn't gone right, Charlie was fairly sure that his remains would resemble a pile of ash that had been stomped on by a troll. A terrible way to go on his first day on the job.

"_Incarcerous!" _shouted Harris and Kate, whilst Adam and Charlie, once Charlie had sprinted far enough to consider himself safe from being eaten and/or trampled, yelled, "_Stupefy!" _as fast as they could.The ropes constantly lashed around the dragon's wings and legs as fast as it could break them, and the Sawscale's scaly lids were gradually closing shut as the combined effect of dozens of Stunning Spells took their toll. The Sawscale roared weakly, one last gout of fire licking at the chilly Romanian air, right before the dragon's legs and wings gave out, causing the massive beast to slump to the ground with a ponderous _thump. _

The team, as was their wont, cautiously approached the fallen behemoth, its scaly lids shut tight and its breath coming out in puffs of steam in the cold air. Well, at least the team's caution came from protocol and experience- Charlie's caution came from the fact that it was a damn dragon, and if it woke up, he'd be incinerated/eaten/trampled faster than he could scream.

"You know what to do," huffed Kate as she carefully clambered over an outstretched tail and approached the top of the dragon's wing. "One, two, three, four- four wing spines, it's young, so it shouldn't have a nest." The whole team breathed a sigh of relief at those words. Hunting for nests was nightmarish work, as Charlie had heard from the instructors when he'd been studying dragons. Dragon nests were well hidden to the extreme by their parents, and if the hatchlings were old enough, they could kill an unsuspecting wizard who wandered in unprepared.

Harris tossed a potion bottle to Charlie, who caught it, surprised. "What's this for?" Then he read the lable- _Peremore's Sleeping Draught. _"Oh."

Harris gave a humorless grin. "That's right, Weasley, can't keep the dragon down with Stunning Spells alone. Now, we gotta pry open the jaws and dump the stuff straight in, otherwise the dragon's bound to wake up."

Charlie gulped a little. "Is this really how it's done? I always assumed they injected the potion or something-"

"Nope, straight down the throat," replied Harris with a serious face. "Scales too thick to inject anything into it, even with a young dragon like this." He shrugged and walked over the unconscious Sawscale's head, with Charlie hurrying behind.

The Sawscale's jaws were gaping open slightly, its breath coming out in wheezing huffs of steam. Harris knelt down and grabbed the top and bottom jaws by the tip and, with an explosive grunt of effort, heaved up the dragon's head until its gaping maw was pointing skyward. He glanced at Charlie. "Go on, dump in the potion. This girl isn't gonna be waking up anytime soon, but that Sleeping Draught will make sure she stays down."

Charlie shrugged, a slightly bewildered look on his freckled face. "I seriously didn't expect this stuff to be this… makeshift. I thought we had the thing down to a science, with a spell or a piece of equipment for everything. Pouring a potion straight down the jaws of an unconscious dragon- seems like we would have found a better way by now." At this, Harris let out a bark of laughter, and he glanced at Charlie. "Weasley, the Ministry doesn't give us half the funding that it should. If the bloody place was run by a competent man instead of the boot-licker Fudge, we'd be using a special syringe made to go under dragon scales. But as it is- well, come on, Weasley, just dump the bloody stuff in and let me put this oversized lizard's head down."

Charlie grinned a little, his crackpot sense of humor sprouting through his awkwardness of being the new guy on the team. "Now now, Harris, you have to keep your strength up. Lifting dragon heads is a wonderful way to work out your abdominals." Harris gave a withering glare at this, causing Charlie to laugh and quickly uncork the bottle of Sleeping Draught, pouring the evergreen colored solution down the dragon's throat. A loud squelching noise informed the pair that the dragon had swallowed the potion, and Harris let out a grunt as he gently let down the dragon's head, so as to avoid jarring the beast out of the stun-induced slumber it was in. The potion should've kept it in an almost catatonic state until roused, but with dragons, being too cautious didn't exist.

"Tie its snout shut," ordered Harris as he bent backwards to stretch his back. Charlie glanced over quizzically as he stowed away the empty potion bottle. "Why? Can't dragons breathe fire through their nostrils?"

Harris let out a bark of laughter. "Yeah, kid, but if its jaws are shut, it can't bite, and that's one less thing we can die of if this bugger wakes up. Just tie it shut, mate."

Charlie shrugged, taking the man's slightly hostile tone in stride. Showing attitude to someone who was more experienced than you was pointless in the extreme, and besides, Harris's logic made sense anyways.

"_Incarcerous," _muttered Charlie, and a dark rope whipped out of his wand and around the Sawscale's jaws, squeezing them shut with a solid _clop. _His job done, he followed Harris back to the others, who appeared to be in the midst of a heated argument.

"-can't believe it," rambled Adam as Charlie and Harris walked back to rejoin them. "It grabbed two dogs right in front of a crowd of Muggles! Dragons are supposed to be _scared _of Muggles! This isn't good! If there's one dragon, there's bound to be-"

"We have Obliviators for a reason, Adam," said Kate, cutting off the frantic wizard. "It's one rogue dragon. She didn't even have a nest. We're getting rid of her, and the Muggles will be none the wiser. Charlie, did you use the potion already?" she asked, directing her calm, blue-eyed gaze to Charlie.

Charlie cleared his throat. "Um, yeah. All clear. Clear as crystal, your Highness." Harris gave a snort that sounded a lot like muffled laughter in the background, and Kate's mouth twitched up into a smile. "Not bad for your first hunt," she said approvingly. "Alright, hold hands, everybody, let's get back to camp-"

A few seconds later, they had Apparated back to camp with the comatose Sawscale in tow, and Charlie Weasley was trying not to vomit as subtly as he could.

The camp was a fairly simple thing, a cluster of wooden cabins with an owlery, a pair of outhouses, and a fire pit in the middle. Set farther away from the camp was a massive pit, and at the bottom of the pit, Charlie knew, was a massive metal collar set at the end of a massive chain meant to be used to restrain massive dragons.

_Bloody hate Apparition, _he thought, bile rising in his throat as he released Adam's forearm. _Why can't we just carry a Portkey with us or something- _

Kate looked over. "Alright, Weasley?" she called as she hovered the massive dragon over the camp and into the pit. The sound of the enchanted shackle's _clink-snap _echoed out of the pit as it automatically fastened around the dragon's neck.

_Don't hurl. You are not to hurl. It's your first day here, for Merlin's sake- _"I'm fine, dearest!" he called back, swallowing down the bile. "Just trying not to fertilize the ground early with vomit, it's a bit too chilly for that."

Katherine rolled her eyes and started walking to the owlery to check if anything had come in while they were gone. Harris, Adam, and Charlie all split off to go back into their respective cabins for some rare free time until their spells were triggered by another dragon, upon which (As Kate had explained to Charlie when he had arrived last night) they would Apparate to the location to tag/monitor/hunt the dragon, depending on how dangerous it was. A dragon living quietly in the wild would be tagged with a Charm and undergo monitoring for research and unusual behavior, but a dragon carrying a stolen cow would be brought down with spellfire and relocated, with any eggs, hatchlings, or mates would be dealt with in the same fashion.

As Charlie pulled open the sturdy oak door of his cabin, he realized that there appeared to be a duster made from fuzzy gray feathers on his desk (which was messily covered in papers and notes). Charlie grinned, closing the door and walking to the desk, and gently nudged the ancient owl to the side. "Hullo there, Errol," he murmured, examining the cream colored envelope tied to the ancient owl's leg whilst fishing out an owl treat from one of the drawers of his rather beat-up desk. "What had you got here for me?" While all owls were technically supposed to go to the owlery, Errol had probably passed out in midair, flopped down the small brick chimney that Charlie's cabin possessed, then flapped his way onto the desk and passed out again. The Weasley family owl may have been old, but he got the job done… sort of.

"The Burrow," read the address on the front of the envelope. Charlie rather grimly recalled the fit that his mother had pitched when he'd declared his intentions to become a dragon handler, and he's spent a year in Romania studying and working with dragons when she'd finally relented. Charlie had been approved for transfer to an actual dragon monitoring/capturing team, and this was his first actual dragon hunt on the team- actually, his first actual field experience with dragons, period. It was pretty exciting for his first day, but it wasn't like he was complaining.

Charlie shook the fat envelope a little- it was quite heavy, either with paper or some nightmarish Charm the twins had imbued the paper with to get him once he opened it. The twin's idea of a farewell gift, as he recalled, was to set up a fake dragon attack on the day Charlie was supposed to leave, complete with Filibuster's fireworks, a massive, enchanted paper mache dragon, and frantic screams of, "YOU wanted to be a dragon handler, YOU deal with it!"

Charlie rather cautiously tore open the envelope, but when nothing leapt out and attempted to melt off his face, he shook out a good number of letters- presumably from each of his numerous siblings. "Munchkins," muttered Charlie, smiling, as he sat down in his cushioned chair, kicked back, and started to read.


	2. Welcome to the Hunt

**THE PREVIOUS DAY**

"You're the transfer? The one who was studying here?" questioned the dark-haired girl, her blue eyes direct. Charlie was at least a head taller and probably only a bit younger, but he still felt a bit… intimidated by the rather stern-looking girl who was talking to him.

The dragon fang necklace may have had something to do with it.

Charlie awkwardly cleared his throat, his head still spinning from the Portkey he had taken here. "Um, yeah. I'm the transfer. Charles Weasley at your service, but everybody thinks my name is Charlie." _Smooth. _"So, um, what's your name?"

"Katherine Wells, but everybody thinks my name is Kate," replied Katherine coolly. "So, welcome to the humble abode of dragon handling team 6." She made a small gesture towards the arrangement of wooden cabins. "We're feeding the Hungarian Horntail we've got in that pit over there, so you made it in time for the interesting bit."

Charlie peered over her shoulder and saw a series of massive pits dug into the ground past the cabins. Two other wizards were tossing what appeared to be whole pig carcasses into the nearest pit. Crunching and ripping sounds could be faintly heard from the bottom. "Can't it fly out?" asked Charlie, his fist getting a little tighter on the handle of his trunk of belongings.

Kate shook her head. "There's a Charmed shackle in every pit that snaps around the neck of anything living that goes in. Makes cleaning it out a pain, but also makes it easier to get the bloody dragons tied up without having to shackle it by hand." She sighed and rubbed her face with both hands. "Alright, Weasley, might as well feed your first dragon before you settle down. Come on. Drop your trunk off at that cabin over there," she added, gesturing to the only cabin that didn't have smoke coming out of the chimney. "The Horntail we have can eat up to a dozen pigs in one go, so don't worry about missing anything. Just meet us at the pit when you've dropped off your stuff."

Charlie cleared his throat awkwardly. "Thanks," he began, but Kate was already walking to the pit to join the others. "I guess," he muttered, feeling a bit foolish. Charlie watched her go for a second more, then shrugged and started pulling his trunk through the frost-covered grass on his way to the cabin.

As Charlie heaved his trunk up the steps of the small porch that led up to the cabin, he solemnly wondered what he had gotten himself into. _First day and I'm gonna be watching pigs getting disemboweled by a Hungarian Horntail, _he mused. _Probably going to end up fighting a dragon, next, almost certainly for a bet of some kind. _Charlie shook his head and gave the doorknob a quick jiggle, and was only mildly surprised when the door slid open without a sound. "Guess there's no problems with security here," he muttered as he stepped through the doorway, hauling his rather creaky trunk behind him.

Charlie surveyed the small cabin. A bed, hopefully tall enough to fit his six-foot frame. A battered desk in one corner. A fireplace that presumably led to the small chimney that Charlie had seen on the outside of the house, and would also give him connection to the Floo network- assuming they used Floo in Romania. The floor was made from well-worn planks of what looked like pine. A large, scarlet carpet covered the planks in the center of the cabin.

It was, Charlie thought, quite cozy.

With a sigh, he set his trunk down on the carpet with a _thump. _The heavy trunk, the edges worn and the clasps shiny, gave a slightly annoyed rattle and gently rolled off into the corner. Charlie then turned around and exited the cabin again, resolving to see just how gory a Hungarian Horntail could get when presented with a pig carcass.

As the cold air washed over Charlie's scarlet mop of hair, he heard again the faint sounds of ripping and snapping coming from the pit, which was being duly observed by the three dragon handlers who were supposed to feed it. Another pile of dead pigs was lying on the edge, presumably to be tossed in one at a time. As Charlie got closer, his worn boots thudding into the frost-covered grass, he saw some coins exchange hands as the next pig was hefted up.

"Um… Hi?" said Charlie hesitantly. The guy with the pig heaved the carcass into the pit, then turned around. "Hey," he grunted, his scarred face twisted up into what seemed to be a permanent scowl. Greasy locks of hair hung down his face, and he stood almost as tall as Charlie (which was pretty tall), which broad shoulders and a set of grizzled features that had apparently been around extremely aggressive dragons for a long, long, time. A set of dark eyes fastened onto Charlie, sizing him up. "Weasley, huh?"

"Yeah," replied Charlie. _He's sort of like Mad-Eye Moody, to tell you the truth. _"Um… Yeah, I'm Charlie Weasley." The other man looked like he routinely put dragons into strangleholds, probably while under the influence of some sort of alcohol. Treat with caution, don't maintain eye contact.

The man eyed him for a moment longer, then grunted again and turned back to the pit to watch the Horntail disemboweling the pig. "I'm Harris Waker. Know your dad. Decent chap, but a bit of a sop."

Charlie frowned and opened his to retort, but a firm hand on his shoulder stopped him. The other wizard, a tall, lanky guy with slightly crooked features, gave a little shake of his head. "Hey," he greeted, his grey eyes friendly. "I'm Adam Kaine. Welcome to team six of the Ministry's Dragon Research and Restraint Bureau. We monitor and capture dragons here in sunny Romania." He made a wide gesture at the snow covered surroundings, then beckoned Charlie over to look inside the pit they were standing next to. "Say hello to Helen, our Hungarian Horntail. Mind you don't fall in."

An echoing roar issued forth from the pit, and Charlie cautiously walked over and peered inside. On the bottom of the pit was a massive yellow-brown dragon, bristling with spines and scales. A massive iron shackle, inscribed with runes and spells, was locked around its sinuous neck, and the shackle was chained to the ground with a metal stake that could've been used to spear krakens.

The Horntail was currently ripping a pig carcass in half, pinning the bottom half to the ground with the claws tipping the tops of its wings whilst its massive beaklike jaws clamped over the other half. A rather gruesome ripping sound reached the ears of the watching wizards as the Horntail tore the carcass in half and gulped down the chunks of meat dangling from its teeth, revealing razor-sharp fangs as it did so. The other half was downed just as quickly, and the dragon's baleful yellow-eyed glare fixed upon the watching wizards, a hiss emitting from its gaping maw.

Charlie gulped. "Um… can't Horntails breathe _fire?" _he asked, a slight edge of panic showing in his voice. Getting incinerated on his first day as an official dragon handler was not on his list of things to do. _Merlin's pants, what have I gotten myself into- _

"Not now," assured Katherine, her tone of voice amused. "That shackle around her neck keeps her from breathing fire. We're safe here." She turned to Adam. "Told you he'd ask about that. Gimme." Adam rolled his eyes as he dug out a Galleon and flipped it to Katherine, who caught it with ease and pocketed it.

"See, Helen's almost at nesting age," explained Adam while Harris heaved in another pig. "As you probably know, dragons get really aggressive right before they settle down and lay their eggs. Helen here-" he gestured to the feasting dragon "-managed to pick off a couple of cows and a dog before we tracked her down and got her here. We'd normally send her to a reserve, but the Ministry wants nesting mother dragons for some reason- something about a tournament. So, we're keeping her for now."

"Tournament?" asked Charlie. _With dragons? I want a piece of that action. _"What tourna-"

A shrieking noise erupted from behind the camp, and Charlie's head whipped around to realize that the fire pit in the middle of the camp had erupted into blazing green fire. "What the-" gasped Charlie, who had absolutely no idea why the campfire had spontaneously combusted.

"About time," muttered Katherine, pulling out her wand and extinguishing the fire. "See, Charlie, we set out wards that trigger whenever dragons get near them. There's been a rogue dragon on the loose, and we've been setting out twice as many wards to make sure we catch the bugger. Now one of our wards has gone off- thus, it's a dragon. Is it our dragon? Maybe, but there's no telling until we check." She offered her hand. "C'mon, we're Apparating there."

Charlie stared at her hand for a moment before clasping it in his own. Harris and Adam also linked hands, and then Katherine twisted and-

The world warped, and the landscape swirled and changed into a small clearing, a massive pair of reptilian footprints planted in the middle. Charlie staggered a little once the ground solidified again, but he quickly regained his footing in time to spot the distant form of a flying dragon wheeling off in the sky. A faint screeching roar echoed off of the mountains, and upon closer examination, there appeared to be a cow dangling from its claws.

Katherine let out a breath as she stared after the retreating dragon. "Fourth cow in this month." She turned to Charlie with a deadly serious expression on her face while Adam and Harris readied themselves, sparks and lightning dancing down the lengths of their wands.

"Welcome to the hunt, Weasley."


	3. The Triwizard Tournament

**BACK TO THE PRESENT**

Charlie watched as Errol fluttered off into the air, the late afternoon sun shining down from above as the dust-grey owl made its ungainly way all the way back to Britain. Knowing Errol, he'd probably pass out halfway, get snagged by a passing Muggle airplane, hitch a ride on the rest of the way, then drop right into the Weasley living room- all while still unconscious.

Charlie leaned back into his chair and winced as the mild burn he'd sustained across his shoulders made itself known. The dragon hide cloak and the log he'd been sheltered behind took the brunt off of the blast of flame the Sawscale had directed at him, but even then, the heat had been enough to put what felt like a first degree burn across his back. That was dragonfire for you- dragons had been known to melt their way through marble castles to get at the tasty screaming humans inside. As far as they were concerned, the castles were just to keep in the flavor.

A knock on the door of his cabin jarred him out of his rather morbid thoughts, and Charlie hurriedly got up and opened the door to reveal Kate standing outside of the door, a slightly quizzical expression on her face and a formal-looking envelope in her hand. "Come to the bonfire," she ordered, glancing at the envelope in her hand as if she couldn't quite believe that she was holding it. "We got something from the Ministry."

"The Ministry?" Charlie frowned. He'd assumed that the Ministry didn't really send much stuff over to the dragon monitoring outposts when he was studying for this, and judging from Kate's quizzical expression, he was right about that. "What did they say?"

"Haven't opened the envelope yet… just come on," muttered Kate as she turned around and walked briskly back to the roaring bonfire, with Charlie following close behind. Adam and Harris were already waiting there, and Charlie stood waiting next to them as Kate took her position in front of the team and opened the envelope. "Alright… On the behalf of the Ministry of Magic," she read aloud. "The Triwizard Tournament is hereby reinstated… The Triwizard Tournament?" She raised a slim eyebrow at this, and Thompson and Harris exchanged meaningful glances.

Charlie sucked in a surprised breath. The Triwizard Tournament was an old and dangerous sport that had been shut down due to numerous casualties and injuries sustained by the contestants, but if it was being started up again, there weren't a lot of reasons that they would call on a dragon monitoring outpost except for one…

"And the Ministry of Magic," continued Kate, a troubled look on her face. "Requires four dragons for the tournament… nesting females… normal health… different species… all other duties temporarily suspended unless necessary… with a monetary reward of _500 Galleons a dragon turned in?" _Kate, for the first time Charlie had met her, seemed almost awestruck.

"Bloody hell," growled Harris, though his scarred face was a little softer than usual. "That's a lot of dosh, that is. Finally get the bloody funding we need…"

"This is _amazing!_" exulted Adam, his thin face bright with excitement. "We've never had the money to be as good as we liked, and now-"

"Wait," interrupted Charlie. Three sets of eyes swiveled to face him, and he very quietly dry swallowed before continuing. "Why is the money split for each dragon? Shouldn't the money just be given if you catch and turn in all of the dragons?"

A moment of silence. Then a sigh from Adam. "It would be like that if there was only one dragon monitoring outpost. But with the dragon handling teams… there's a sort of competitiveness with each other, and they'd have all gotten the same letter. So it stands to reason for the Ministry to split the reward so that all of the teams can cash in so they get dragons faster that way."

Charlie felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. "We're competing with the other dragon handling teams?"

"Pretty much," confirmed Kate quietly, still staring at the letter. "Now, there's only three teams in Romania, and one of them isn't that bad- keep to themselves and their own region, but the other-"

"They're a bunch of arseholes," growled Harris darkly. "Always butting in on the dragons we track down, snagging them at the last minute and taking the credit- Team eight is a load of tosh."

_Way to put it, _thought Charlie sarcastically, but Adam shrugged wearily in agreement. "We're going to have competition from all over the globe to get these dragons in. And they have to be all different species, nesting mothers, perfect health…" He sighed, rubbing his hands down his face wearily. "It's going to be hard. And with only four dragons, it won't take long for the money to get handed out."

A cog suddenly clicked into place in Charlies thoughts. Couldn't they just... "But we've still got the Hungarian Horntail!" said Charlie, excitement creeping into his voice. "It was a nesting mother, right? We could send it in and get a jumpstart on the other teams-"

There was a pause from the rest of the team as they considered this.

"Heck, we _could _do that," said Adam thoughtfully. "Great idea, Weasley." Katie gave Charlie an approving glance, causing him to flush slightly and clear his throat. Harris gave a glance. Not an approving glance, but just a glance like he was considering _not _killing him in his sleep for once.

"Not bad… and 500 Galleons straight off the bat, with one of the dragons down to us," Kate muttered. She shrugged. "Guess the Ministry won't take it too amiss if we turn one in this early." She wheeled around, turning to the dragon pits- the next one over the Sawscale pit had the Horntail in it, if Charlie recalled correctly. Harris and Adam followed suit, but Charlie, flushed with excitement, rushed ahead of the rest to check up on the Hungarian Horntail they'd be turning in to the Triwizard Tournament. The cool Romanian air blew against his face as he jogged past the rest of the team, his thoughts abuzz with excitement, pride, and a couple other emotions that couldn't really be put down into recognizable English.

Charlie skirted the Sawscale pit (to an annoyed hissing noise from the captured dragon) and rushed towards the Horntail pit, skidding to a stop at the edge.

What he saw made him freeze in horror.

"Oi, Weasley!" called Kate from behind him, annoyed. "Could have fallen in, it's sort of a _rule _not to run around the dragon pits…" She spotted his expression of horror. "What? What happened?"

"Boy probably shit himself," muttered Harris, his usual sullen expression on his grizzled face replaced with something a bit more soft- anticipation, maybe. "Horntails are damn scary first, second, and third time around-"

"Charlie!" called Adam as he caught up with the wheezing redhead. "What's…" As he walked up to the pit and peered inside, he froze. "Oh, no."

"What the bloody hell is going on?" growled Harris, coming up behind both of them with Kate following right at his heels. "I swear to Merlin's hairy left- oh, _BLOODY HELL."_

"Charlie, what…" began Kate, but she froze as well as she gazed at the scene in front of them. "Shit."

"Shit is right," agreed Charlie heavily, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

The enchanted shackle was split. The chain was cut. And the Horntail, their first shot at finally doing their job the way they wanted, was gone.


	4. Goddammit

**A/N: So hey! First Author's Note! Woot! but first, for the people reading and following my fic, I am so terribly sorry I posted this a week late- I use the weekends to write and last weekend was filled with a two day vacation. So much apologies and huggles to you loyal, loyal, readers. Enjoy!**

"You've got to be bloody _kidding _me," barked Harris, his grizzled face looking like someone had just killed his entire family with a rusty cheese grater.

"Somebody's quick off the mark," observed Adam bitterly as the whole team gazed into the pit, which was now empty save for the massive chain (cut cleanly in two) and the enchanted shackle (split open). "Probably another team stealing in on our luck… I doubt dragon poachers would choose now of all times to make their grab."

Kate let out a noise like a cougar getting kicked between the legs. "GodDAMMIT!" she barked, her usual cool vanishing like snow on a campfire. "We would've heard it if someone Apparated in- but if they got her when we were out tracking the Sawscale-"

"Then they've got a pretty good head start on us," agreed Charlie heavily. His first day on the job. His _first bloody day_. This was enough to make him have stress coming out of his ears, but chasing after people who were professional _dragon thieves _would probably be a good way to get something bashed over his head, and what would be coming out of his ears wouldn't bear thinking about if that happened. "Dragon team 8, you think? The one's you said were-"

"-complete arseholes," finished Kate grimly. "They've only taken credit for what we've done before, never outright stolen what we'd already had… I guess 500 Galleons per dragon is too much to pass up."

"Should we tell the Ministry?" asked Charlie, which was greeted with a snort of derision from Harris. "The Ministry can go fu-" he started, his scarred face contemptuous, but Adam cut him off. "The Ministry doesn't really care about who turns in the dragons as long as they get them," explained Adam kindly, though the willowy wizard's voice was tinged with bitterness. "As long as they get the tournaments pulled off, they don't really care about which teams turn in the dragons."

"That's…" started Charlie. _Bloody idiotic, _he finished in his head, but Kate got to it before he could. "Standing around moping about our bad luck isn't going to help," she said firmly, her anger mostly gone. She brushed a few stray strands of dark hair from her face. "Alright, lets Apparate to our favorite arsehole's camp and see what we find."

* * *

><p>"We don't have your bloody Horntail," stated the rather small man in front of them, flanked by a couple of guys that were practically polar opposites- one had the rough height and looks of a leprechaun, and the other resembled a mountain troll that was only marginally more intelligent than some sort of tree fungus. "And if you please, bugger off. This isn't your camp."<p>

Harris let out a growl that was surprisingly similar to that of a pubescent mountain troll. "Listen, Bradley-" he started, his scarred hand drifting towards his wand, but Kate cut him off with a warning glance. "We just want to see your dragon pits," she said firmly, her arms crossed across her chest, though Charlie could tell that she was also itching to hex the guy in front of them. "To confirm that you don't."

Bradley let out a contemptuous snort. "Yeah, right. How do I know you're not just trying to check up on how far along we are with our dragon catching?" he sneered, his rather wobbly nose quivering. "Which I'll remind you we're much farther along than _you _are-"

"If you have nothing to hide, you have nothing to worry about," reassured Charlie, though his eyes were narrowed. "Won't hurt, will it?"

The incredibly short guy on the left stepped forward, his rather ridiculous beard quivering with the force of the sneer on his face. "Weasley, right?" he asked, a slight sneer on his face. "Red haired, freckled? Poor excuse for a dragon handler, and I do mean _poor_," he added maliciously, his beady little eyes quivering with malice. "Yuh," grunted his oversized friend, who stared at Charlie and his team with piggy eyes that seemed about as sharp as cotton balls.

Charlie's gaze turned red. "_You-" _he started, his hand twitching towards his wand. "Hold, now, we're all… _friends _here," continued Bradley, smirking. "I guess you can see the dragon pits… But you'll have to hand over your wands. Don't want any accidents, right?"

"No way," growled Harris and Charlie, right as Adam and Kate said, "Of course." Charlie and Harris stared at them, then at each other- Charlie with bemusement and Harris with a faint sense of horror that he'd actually agreed with someone.

"Guys, we have to," muttered Kate quietly, casting a dirty look back at the other dragon handling team. "If they have it, we have to know."

"But we won't have our wands! They're _letting _us walk into their camp! This means they want us to see something but want us to be able to do anything about it!" hissed Charlie.

"Look, this is a big and obvious Bad Thing for all of us," murmured Adam. "But we have to know and act from what we have. We can't just sneak into their camp later and see if they have our dragon, it's _illegal-"_

"And when has that bothered us before?" growled Harris, his scarred and craggy face furious. "Hex the lot of them right now and save the trouble, I say-"

"We _can't_," growled Kate. "We'll get arrested way faster than they will if we hex them, so let's just go in and see, alright? And Adam, hand in your fake wand, I want at least a bit of magic on our side in case something starts."

"Agreed, then?" muttered Charlie, glancing back at the other dragon handling team. This was met with a chorus of "Agreed" from the other three, though Harris seemed quite reluctant about it. Kate stood up and faced Bradley and his two goons, sliding her wand out of her pocket and offering it to Bradley handle first. "Done. Show us your pits, but we expect our wands back on the way out."

"How _nice _of you," sneered Bradley as he jerked the wand from Kate's grasp. Charlie twitched. The urge to strangle Bradley was overwhelming, but he jerkily handed over his own wand and watched as Harris and Adam did the same (though Harris looked on the verge of murder).

"Nicely done," cackled Bradley as he started walking in the directions of the gigantic pits dug in the ground, his two goons following close behind and the team's wands held in his left hand. "Alright, time to not see your dragon."

Charlie let out a sort of growl through his teeth, but followed along with his team as they made their way to the dragon pits. The first one they passed was occupied by what looked like a young Common Welsh Green, but instead of the enchanted shackle that they had at camp, the Green was restrained with massive irons clamped around its legs and wings, pinning them to the floor. What looked like a gigantic, stylized burn mark on the dragons flank particularly caught Charlie's eye.

"You _brand _the dragons you catch?" said Charlie, revulsion settling into his gut. He'd known of certain practices with privately own security firms like Gringotts, but to see it face to face was sickening.

"Only way to tell that they're yours," leered the short bearded guy on Bradley's left. "Also teaches 'em to lay low and sharp. Can't have the dragons getting antsy, now can we?"

"That's inhumane," muttered Adam through clenched teeth. Kate's face was emotionless, though her hand twitched as though she was imagining decking the three guys on the other team. Charlie's thoughts ran along the same lines, though he was slightly less subtle about it. His hands were clenched tight into white-knuckled fists as they approached the second pit.

"You call that a dragon?" snorted Harris as they came across the second pit, which held a relatively small Hebridean Black. The dragon was curled in the corner, mostly immobilized due to the massive irons clamped around its limbs. "It's either a very small dragon or an overgrown lizard-doxy hybrid, and I'm inclined to think the second."

The other henchman of Bradley's (the really, really big one) turned his head towards Harris and gave a baleful glare in Harris's direction. "Yoo shuddup," he slurred, his swamp-brown eyes fixed on Harris, who gave another snort and a rude hand gesture. The extra-large henchman decided to ignore this (possibly because he didn't know what the gesture meant) and turned back as the group approached the third and final pit.

Bradley suddenly stopped, throwing his arms out. The rest of the group came to an abrupt stop. "Careful," he leered, an exaggerated face of concern on his face. "Hungarian Horntails are known to be very, very… aggressive." Before the team could register his words, Bradley stepped aside to reveal…

Their Horntail. Helen. With extra-large irons clamped around the wings, legs, and neck, and a gigantic brand mark burned into the flank. "You _bastard-" _started Charlie furiously, turning towards Bradley. The extra-large goon and the extra-small goon both stepped forward, though the latter was considerably less impressive. However, they were both considerably threatening as they reached for their wands, one resembling a toothpick more than a wand, and the other resembling some sort of wood bludgeon.

"Ah-ah-ah, wouldn't do that," laughed Bradley. "Our brand, remember. Recognized by the Ministry itself. That Horntail is ours to do as we please."

"Like hell." Kate's voice was calm and cool as she stepped in front of Bradley, her arms crossed. "That's our dragon and you know it. Just because you managed to nab it when nobody was looking doesn't mean it's yours."

"Who says we nabbed it?" cackled the smaller goon, who was hopping back and forth in mad glee. "That dragon is ours, nice and official. 'Cos of the _brand." _The other goon, who seemed to be rather confused by the action going on around him, contributed a slurred "Yuh" and fell silent again.

"If you think we're going to let you turn in the dragon _we caught,_" began Adam coolly, but Bradley cut him off, pulling out his own wand. "But we _do," _he laughed, his wand out and casually pointed to the ground. "And not only would we kick your arses if you tried anything, this Horntail is legally ours, by all definition of the law. So _leave,_" added Bradley, a little smirk on his face. "Before we're forced to get you off of our property ourselves."

Kate's face, for once, showed a tiny hint of the fury she was feeling inside, but she forced herself to step closer and hold out her hand. "Fine," she muttered. "Our wands before we go."

Bradley let out a laugh. "Do you really think we're going to give you your wands right next to the pi-"

His words were rather abruptly interrupted as Charlie felt movement rushing up from behind him. A scarred fist whipped past Charlie's head from behind and smashed into Bradley's face with a solid _crunch_, tossing him to the ground. Charlie and Kate both whirled around to see Harris, who was breathing heavily with an expression of abject fury on his face. Adam was standing a bit behind him, with a mildly horrified look on his face.

Harris caught the looks on their faces. "What?" he grunted. "He's annoying-"

"I'M GOING TO HEX THE LIVING SHIT OUT OF YOU!" howled Bradley as he got up off the ground, his wand clenched tight in his hand. Adam pulled out his concealed wand and held it in a duelist's position, his expression exasperated. The two goons stepped forward, their wands ready, and Harris pulled out a gigantic knife that was practically the size of a short sword.

Kate gave Charlie a world weary look. _Goddammit, _said the look. "Goddammit," said the person the look belonged to.

Charlie had enough time to take a grappling stance right before Mr. Horribly Oversized Goon rushed him, bellowing at the top of his lungs with a smoking wand in his right hand.

Goddammit.


	5. A Piece of Tree Fungus

So there Charlie was, wandless, an oversized lump of murder rushing towards him with a wand in his hand, and his newfound friends looking like they wanted a piece of that action. What do you do in such a situation?

In the case of Charles 'Charlie' Weasley, the best option is obviously to take a small step back and kick the incoming thug (affectionately nicknamed Mr. Goon from henceforth, as Charlie had never quite picked up his name) right between the legs. For those anatomically challenged people who aren't quite sure what this means, suffice to say that Charlie had effectively crippled Mr. Goon's ability to add any branches to his family tree.

For those of you who _still _don't get it, Charlie kicked him in the nuts. Really hard. Hard enough to make Charlie internally wince in sympathy even as Mr. Goon crashed into the dirt, gasping and clutching weakly at his crotch, his wand falling from his finger and the spell fizzling out. _Should've just hexed me, poor bastard._

However, Charlie's sympathy was short lived as Mr. Goon reached out a meaty mitt and clamped it around Charlie's ankle. He then proceeded to yank Charlie off of his feet with surprising strength for one who had just had his nuts temporarily inverted with nothing but blunt force trauma, but that didn't really occur to Charlie as he hit the dirt, with Mr. Goon's hand still locked around his ankle.

"Get _off-_" hissed Charlie, panicked, as he raised his leg and kicked at Mr. Goon's fingers. He let go of Charlie's leg after the third kick, but started to unsteadily lumber back up to his feet, reaching for his fallen wand while he did so- an action that made Charlie panic just a _bit_ more than was strictly necessary.

As Mr. Goon picked up his wand again, Charlie took advantage of his stooped-over position and, locking his hands behind the other guy's head, brought his knee up into his face as hard as he could. There was a solid _crunch _as Charlie's rather bony knee smashed into Mr. Goon's face, and he abruptly jerked back, blood spurting from a now extremely crooked nose. He clutched at his now blood-spattered face with his non-wand hand in surprise, blood leaking from in between his fingers.

Charlie actually had time to think, _Gee, that wasn't so bad, _right before Mr. Goon starting rushing at him again, bulldozing towards him with a bloodspattered face and a set of massive, clenched fists. Charlie, taken off guard, barely managed to get his hands up before a massive, bloody fist rocketed right towards his face.

It's an interesting fact that getting punched in the face especially hard does cause a brief flash of whiteness, quite like the little cartoonized books that Charlie had read as a small boy. However, Charlie got punched hard enough that the white flash was replaced by multicolored blobs shooting through his vision, and had he been able to register it, he might have found this worrisome- as it was, only one thought was prevalent in Charlie's head as he thudded to the ground.

_I think he broke my face, _thought Charlie detachedly as he thudded into the frost-covered dirt. _I think he broke my face! _However, a more pressingly urgent matter was looming at hand- Mr. Goon, after taking a second to attempt (futilely) to staunch the blood spurting from his horribly flattened nose, was lumbering towards the fallen Charlie. If Charlie was any good judge of down-and-dirty bare knuckle brawling (he was) then Mr. Goon was most likely going to stomp Charlie until he resembled a doxie that had been caught and brutally executed by a bored five year old child wearing an especially heavy pair of leather soled boots. This was, understandably, not something that Charlie wanted to happen, so he groggily pushed himself up to his elbows in an attempt to rise before Mr. Goon closed the distance and pounded him to a fine paste.

Mr. Goon let out a slightly nasally bellow as he lumbered over to Charlie, who was still attempting to get up off the ground. Charlie raised his arms in an attempt to ward off the incoming stomp- an effort he knew was mostly futile. If anything, it would just powderize his forearms along with the rest of his skull after the first stomp. The second stomp didn't really bear thinking about, as Charlie was pretty preoccupied with the gigantic boot looming over his head.

"Hey asshole," came a voice from behind Mr. Goon. Feminine, but filled with a level of pissed-off-ness that could rival Charlie's mum at her finest. Mr. Goon paused, then lurched around to face the person behind him.

"Got my wand back," growled Kate, her face filled with a terrifying mixture of satisfaction and fury. This was, presumably, the last thing that Mr. Goon saw right before Kate tapped him on the shoulder with her wand.

Mr. Goon let out a gurgle as his whole body began to warp and distort, shrinking and changing color as he imploded towards the ground. Charlie took the opportunity to scramble back up to his feet as the lumpy brown shape that was Mr. Goon finally shuddered one last time and settled on the ground.

"GABE!" squealed a surprisingly high pitched voice, and Charlie glanced over to see the really short guy (henceforth dubbed Mr. Leprechaun, as Charlie genuinely had no idea what his name was) staring, wide-eyed, at what his comrade had become. Unfortunately for him, Harris was waiting for just such an opportunity to grab the much smaller (and quicker) wizard. As such, the grizzled Harris, now sporting several welts, burns, and cuts, leapt like a demented panther onto the momentarily distracted Mr. Leprechaun and wrapped his arms around his neck in some sort of stranglehold, the melted stub of his knife still clenched in his teeth. His unfortunate victim turned a vivid shade of red as Harris, wild-eyed with bloodlust/adrenaline/demented glee, started squeezing.

"STOP!" shrieked another voice, which was, if possible, even higher pitched than the last one. Kate quickly handed Charlie his wand back, and they both turned to face a red-faced Bradley, who was clenching a smoking wand in a white-knuckled fist. Adam was lying groaning a few yards away from him, clutching at his head like someone had belted him over the noggin with a bat- which, considering the circumstances, wasn't that hard to imagine.

Charlie's eyes flicked down to the twisted, mottled thing that Gabe (formerly Mr. Goon) had become. "Is that a piece of tree fungus?" he asked, perplexed.

Kate gave him a sideways glance. "I was pissed off. Deal with it," she muttered, then turned her gaze back to Bradley.

"I'm going to _melt his head off,_" snarled Bradley, his wand pointed, quivering, towards the groaning Adam. His slightly pudgy cheeks were flushed with fury as he spoke, his wand smoking from the tip.

"Do that, and I'll stomp the mushroom, and Harris will see just how far leprechaun necks can twist," retorted Kate with an equal amount of rage bubbling inside of her voice. Mr. Leprechaun let out a choked sputter of indignation from inside Harris's stranglehold, though his face was turning an especially unhealthy shade of puce.

Bradley's gaze flicked from the weakly struggling Mr. Leprechaun, then to the piece of fungus sitting innocuously under Kate's waiting shoe, then to Adam, who was slowly crawling back to his feet. "_FINE,_" he spat, a look of pure murder in his eyes. "But if the anybody even _shits _in our direction after this, I swear to Merlin's bloody a-"

"Yeah, yeah, real threatening," muttered Charlie, tuning out the rest of Bradley's ranting as he stepped over to Adam and steadied the gangly wizard on his feet. "You alright, man?"

"I think he hit me with a Conjunctivitis Curse," muttered Adam, who was rubbing frantically at his eyes. "They're swollen shut- can't see a bloody thing…"

"Don't worry, we'll get you fixed up," reassured Charlie, who was now watching Harris with some alarm. "Harris, I think you've choked him unconscious, you can let go-"

"You keep forgetting that _unconscious _is still one step away from _dead_," snarled Harris, his scarred face twisted in a vicious grin as he squeezed even harder. "And I'm curious just how much I can squeeze before he _pops _like a can of pumpkin juice_-_" 

"Look, man, murder is a lot harder to explain than assault, so _please _let go before he actually does go pop and the Ministry shits all over us," hissed Charlie as he made a futile attempt to pry open Harris's arms. Harris himself growled a little before relinquishing his hold, allowing his victim to flop limply to the ground face-first. Bradley, his eye twitching as he saw this, growled and stepped towards the tree fungus sprouting from the ground, reaching towards it with a gloved hand.

"Oh, that's not a good idea," said Kate smoothly. "Mushrooms have roots to, you know. So ripping up poor Gabe there will leave a bit of him in the ground when the Transfiguration wears off." She shrugged, looking totally nonchalant about turning someone into a piece of fungus. "It'll only last for a couple hours, but try to avoid stepping on it."

Bradley looked ready to murder something as he stepped away from the mushroom and threw a hand gesture that was probably punishable by death in some far-off country, but Charlie's face hurt too much for him to really care as the team linked hands. Kate _twisted-_

-and once the world stopped spinning, Harris let out a bark of laughter. "What?" said Charlie, perplexed. He knew by now that Harris was definitely a bit more than a bit homicidal, so he was slightly worried now that he had started laughing.

Still wheezing with laughter, Harris reached into his pocket and pulled out a large gold key. "Lifted it off the munchkin when I had him in the choke," he explained, his scarred face split with a fierce grin. "Think it's the key to the dragon shackles they've got." He turned to Adam (who was still blind). "Thinking again about not breaking in?"

Adam sighed and rubbed at his swollen eyelids again. "No comment."

Kate, for the first time since Charlie had met her, smiled dangerously.

"Excellent."


End file.
